


Patches of Darkness

by Jinxxkarma1



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, F/F, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 15:16:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5168618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jinxxkarma1/pseuds/Jinxxkarma1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story of love told from the cynical mind of one Rose Lalonde. </p>
<p>Do not read if you believe in true love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at writing.   
> Let me know if it's good enough to continue.

She said kiss me it will heal. But it won't forget. 

And I believe her, allowing that maw filled with a little more than pain touch to my own soft human lips. The sear from it rivalled the feeling of the horrors speaking through my tongue. But sooner rather than later the pain of the twin punctures faded. I was left feeling bereft of the pang that came with voluntary body horror, my endocrine system stopping whatever efforts it started to assuage my discomfort. 

And so, the next time I allow her to feed it is done entirely without the after caring anaesthesia, no coddling nor cuddling. She seems put out about that fact, in the literal sense she dulls her glow, previously bright from her nourishment. Though I strongly ache for her mothering urges I cannot, I refuse to give up the mark she has left behind, if only to direct attention from the chalky greyness that retracts in places from my once beauty defining skin. A leftover from the Furthest Ring. A reminded they might take back anyway what they once had. 

My partner in pain was no glorified blood drinker herself. It may sounds as though I attempt to re-romanticise the idilic vampire from most love novels. But really she isn't even on par with them, she is more likened to a flea morphed into a human through my delightful reverse anthropomorphism. 

Her fangs are not smooth nor white, not hard not sharp. They are blunted through years of use and the hollowness from the membranous structure to obtain their valued nectar leaves them brittle. As for the aforementioned colour, they are autumnal. Far off from what their once decidedly putrid yellow, now resembling a left apple with a bite taken. Aged and stained with decay. Yet I still find love in her despite the stench of death she carries with her. 

I am convinced this is fate.


	2. Tension.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found some inspiration.

"Would you like some bovine gestational excrement in your tea?" 

It's an innocent enough query but it widens the cultural, worldly gap between us. I look to correct her with a smile, my inner derision of having told her the true name at least ten times before hidden from her view. "It's called milk Kanaya. And yes, just a little." My dearest proceeds to do so, turning one of the cups of leaf stew as she named it, slightly lighter than the other. She takes it plain, no sugar no milk no additives. It seems the rawness of the tea reminds her of something long lost on her own fragmented planet. 

Bringing over my share of her efforts I take a tentative sip. Scalding to perfection. I take another, feeling a fair few taste buds perish from the heat, but that matters little. What do they matter in the grand scheme? I cannot taste things without the underlying sensation of chewing gravel. Another ill the horrors left, a comfort they had described it as in their stay inside my head. For once I do agree, the sensation dulls the pain of becoming complacent and bored in this once new and fascinating infatuation. 

And yet I still cannot leave her, she is too...she is too...

She is herself and I am tainted by the world I used to live in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to comment your thoughts.


End file.
